


Beyond Redemption: Part II

by HPFandom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, Explicit Language, Incest, M/M, Romance, Self-Harm, Sexual Content, Slash, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-12-15
Updated: 2006-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-01 02:44:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10178951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HPFandom_archivist/pseuds/HPFandom_archivist
Summary: DISCONTINUED. See Bio For Details. "Oh I see your scars, I know where they're from, so sensually carved and bleeding until you're dead and gone." With the threat of the prophecy hanging over them all, Harry finds that acceptance and trust aren’t the only things hindering his conversion...Sequel to Beyond Redemptioin: Part I





	1. Chapter I

**Author's Note:**

> Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [HP Fandom](http://fanlore.org/wiki/HP_Fandom_\(archive\)), which was closed for health and financial reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [HP Fandom collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hpfandom/profile).

** Beyond Redemption: Part II **   
_By Sisters of Darkness_

\- - -

Previous: [Part I](http://www.hpfandom.net/eff/viewstory.php?sid=1502)

For this Chapter:

**Rating(s)** : R-Rated.  
 **Pairing(s)** : None; Mild Mentions of Harry Potter/Sirius Black; Remus Lupin/Severus Snape.  
 **Warning(s)** : None.

\- - -

**Chapter I**   
_By CS WhiteWolf_

**H** arry all but collapsed into Remus’ arms as he stumbled out of the fireplace and into the werewolf’s strong embrace, clutching in mild desperation as he waited for the world to stop spinning. Though travelling via Floo never agreed with him for the most part, Harry knew the dizzying blur of fireplaces was not the reason for his light-headedness this morning. He’d eaten little this morning and had managed little to no sleep last night, the thought of returning to Hogwarts for the new term had kept him tossing and turning well into the early hours of a dank and drizzly dawn, eyes itchy with sleep he’d found unconsciousness for what seemed only a moment before Remus was slipping into his room to awaken him for their return to the school. 

Clenching his eyes tightly shut a moment longer, Harry tried to gain his bearings before pulling out of Remus’ hold. Taking a moment to compose himself as he stepped away from the older man, Harry allowed his eyes to flick over the werewolf’s rooms. Though neither of them had visited Hogwarts for the duration of the Christmas holidays, Remus’ rooms looked exactly as they had been left. While no dust had accumulated upon any surface, the signs of neglect were evident in the stuffy, stale smell that lingered in the air they breathed, coupled together with the permeating chill of rooms unused. 

Harry felt a shiver steal through him, he tugged his robes more tightly about his small frame as he waited- heart in mouth- for the moment Remus would insist they make their way towards the Great Hall. The sound of a fire roaring to life in the hearth behind him, made him jolt agitatedly as Remus lit the coals, jumping further when the werewolf’s large hand came to rest upon his shoulder. Looking up, Harry noted the worry and concern marring Remus’ brow. He forced himself to offer a small smile of comfort to the werewolf but he could not keep it- the corners of his lips straining to hold before crumpling into a wry sort of grimace. 

“Sorry,” He muttered, looking away again, looking at anything else his eyes came upon. Remus squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. 

“I have not seen you this nervous since we attended Malfoy Manor,” Remus’ voice was soft as he gave Harry’s shoulder another squeeze before moving off towards the kitchenette- the sounds of mugs clinking together and upon the counter, of water bubbling and whistling as it came to boil filled the room as Harry watched Remus prepare them both some tea. 

Feeling restless and not knowing if he was required to respond to Remus’ last statement or not, Harry shuffled his way around the coffee table, seating himself on one side of the battered brown couch, his brow twisted into a frown. It felt too soon to be returning to school. The freedom Grimmauld Place had offered him over the winter break was a desperately needed respite. He wasn’t sure how he’d survived so long without the understanding solitude and… simple _healing_ , that being in Sirius’ old house with Remus’ company had offered. 

He too had liked the occasions when it had been more than just him and Remus, the times when Snape had spent his time in their company. Though Harry hadn’t believed it possible to feel anything other than aggravation or suspicion in the Head of Slytherin’s company, Snape had surprised him by giving Harry his space whilst still being a silent support to him. He too felt he better understood the Potions Master- not through any words spoken or shared communications, but rather through his half-lidded observations of the usually composed and reserved man.

Harry had seen the way Snape’s lips would twitch in suppressed amusement at something Remus would say or do, noted the softening to those obsidian eyes as he sat beside Remus on the couch, carding his fingers through the werewolf’s hair. Harry saw the masked love Snape felt for Remus, and the shared love Remus felt for him in return. It confused Harry that in their own ways they denied to speak such declarations to each other when in their very actions to one another they portrayed their deepest feelings so very clearly. He’d also wondered how Snape could still be a part of the Inner Circle if he felt so deeply about Remus- how could Remus let Snape be that way with three other men? 

When Harry had been with Sirius he’d never even thought about another man in that way, his thoughts consumed only with memories and fantasies and urges towards his godfather, waiting in goofy longing for their next illicit meeting. He smiled sadly, his heart twisting only a little in reminiscence of his lost lover. How things had changed since the holidays. 

Harry rubbed at his eyes beneath the thick frames of his glasses, the sharp smell of strong coffee touching at his nose. He blinked in confusion, watching as Remus sat down beside him, handing over a mug of coffee even as he cradled his own cup of tea.

“You’ll need the caffeine, I believe.” He sipped at his hot drink, watching as Harry nodded almost sullenly. 

“What are you thinking about?” Remus questioned after a long minute of silence. Harry just shrugged, his thoughts turning back to his musings on Sirius… on Snape. They hadn’t spoken to Snape since New Year’s Day. Harry felt chill to the bone simply remembering what had happened that day. He’d never feared for his life so much as when Voldemort callously began pillaging through his mind, through his memories. 

It had taken all his effort, all his will to fight back against the dark taint of invasion to force the serpentine creature from his mind. He hadn’t so much as taken a pause for thought, a moment to consider the consequences before he was all but berating the Dark Lord in front of his subjects, before giving him the very information he’d been lusting over since Harry was but a mere babe- that of the prophecy. 

He’d left the room immediately, nearly sick with fear as his anger abated to shock. All he could think on was the need to get away, to get as far away from the Inner Circle as he was able. Harry had almost sobbed in relief as Remus all but barrelled him over in his haste to get to his cub, gathering Harry so tightly into his arms he’d felt his ribs bruising, but he hadn’t cared, clutching at Remus with the same single-minded want of contact. Remus had been quick to withdraw, fingers curling in an unbreakable grip about his wrist and dragging him, willingly, towards the nearest floo-activated fireplace and getting them the hell away from Malfoy Manor. 

Remus had kissed him when they’d arrived in Grimmauld Place. The feel of a hard mouth upon his own so much of a shock that he hadn’t been able to do more than gasp before Remus pulled away and gathered him into his arms once more.

They’d seen neither hide nor hair from Snape since that day, and even though it had been little over a week since the incident, Harry felt as if he’d lost something he hadn’t even been aware he’d had. He knew Remus felt the loss as keenly as he did, though perhaps he understood it better. Harry didn’t think Snape’s absence was entirely voluntary however, for though he saw the flashes of sadness in Remus’ gaze when the werewolf was idle long enough to fall into thought, he knew Remus was furious with Snape for having held him back, preventing Remus from coming to Harry’s aid when Voldemort was all but raping his mind. 

Harry mindlessly sipped at his coffee, feeling the slow hum of caffeine working through his system. 

“What’s going to happen now, Remus?” Harry questioned, shooting the werewolf a sideways look. They’d spoken about the repercussions of what had happened on New Years Day on more than one occasion, but now- being here, back at Hogwarts- the fear was once again fresh and new within him. 

He knew that in returning to school he’d have to face both Snape and Malfoy, two members of Voldemort’s Inner Circle, members who were pledged to serve him above all others. Harry didn’t honestly think that either of them would make an attempt on his life whilst under Dumbledore’s watchful eye, but that didn’t stop him fearing the worst.

“We’ll find out soon enough, cub.” Remus replied in an almost philosophical manner, turning more fully to Harry and reaching out to cup at his face. “No matter what, I won’t let them hurt you.” 

Harry nodded his head, eyes turning to look out the rain-spattered windows of Remus’ rooms, his heavy sigh all but echoing around the room. He tensed as Remus leaned forward, placing his almost finished cup of tea upon the table before them and standing. 

“Come on, Harry,” He said, “Time to face the day.” 

It was with reluctance that Harry stood also and allowed Remus to lead him in the direction of the Great Hall and breakfast. 

\- - -

Harry supposed he should have been grateful to Dumbledore for allowing him to miss the September 1st start of school in favour of another night spent in Grimmauld Place, it meant at least that Harry hadn’t had to put up with the overly sentimental reunions that becoming reacquainted with Ron and Hermione brought for more than the half-hour he’d been forced to endure it at breakfast that morning. 

Though not nearly as tedious as such a meeting with his fellow Gryffindors could have been, Harry still felt drained as he trudged his way along the dungeon corridors towards his first class of the day- Potions. His heart already lodged somewhere in his throat and pounding so fiercely he felt he’d choke, Harry tried not to let panic overwhelm him as the assemblage of the sixth year Slytherin students became visible as they waited in watchful silence outside the Potions classroom. 

Beside him Ron made an attempt at some snide comment about the Slytherins, his words garnering only a glare from Hermione and the cold shoulder from Harry who was too intent on focussing his breathing to even acknowledge his friend’s existence at this point in time. The shock of platinum blond hair gave Malfoy away almost instantly as the boy leaned causally against the stone wall, his groupies crowding around him and- for once- choosing to ignore the arrival of the Gryffindors. 

Malfoy however wasn’t ignoring them. Or rather him in particular, for the moment Harry and the Gryffindors entered into their dungeon lair, the blonde’s eyes were upon him, all shrewd and conniving as they flickered over him- from the muss of his hair to the scuffed tips of the shoes poking out from beneath his robes.

Harry swallowed heavily, though he did not look away- matching Malfoy look for look. He started slightly at the amused smirk that touched at the blond boy’s lips a moment before he looked away, responding to something Blaise Zabini was saying to him. 

Then the classroom door was opening and Harry felt himself freeze up as Snape swept into the hallway, all dark and brooding, snapping at them to get inside and resume the seats and the partners they had had before the holidays. 

It was only Hermione’s ignorant hand on his back that had him stepping into the Potions classroom at all, shaking hands clenched into fists within the pockets of his robes as he moved towards the table he was to share with Malfoy. The knowing smirk the blond Slytherin gave him let Harry know that this was no coincidence, Snape- and perhaps Malfoy too- had decided to keep last terms pairings on purpose. 

Perching on the edge of his seat, Harry sat more or less in tensed anticipation of something untoward of an average Potions class happening, his eyes never leaving Snape as he half-listened to the Potions Master’s instructions for the day. 

As the double-period progressed and the last half-hour of the class drew nearer, Harry allowed himself to relax his guard a little as he dutifully stirred the mucus-green potion ‘three time clockwise, once anti-clockwise, repeat’. Malfoy casually added the frogspawn and Harry stopped stirring long enough to grab a handful of twitching beetle-legs. His back was turned only a minute, but that was a minute too long as he turned back- all colour draining from his face as he looked round to find the potion hissing furiously, shaking and shuddering a moment before exploding with a bang, the cool air of the dungeons- (and an eerily casual containing spell from Snape)- helping to freeze the potion mid-air, preventing it from causing any undue harm. 

Shaking with anger, Harry turned his glare on Malfoy. He just knew the Slytherin had something to do with the disaster! 

“Mr Potter,” Harry forgot how to breath as Snape’s silky baritone ran through him, the whole room seemed perched on the edge of their seats as they watched the Potions Master glide across the room, his face clouded with barely suppressed anger. “You will see me after class.” 

The hissed words froze Harry’s blood. Had he felt even the slightest bit coherent he may have noticed the fearful looks most of the Gryffindors, and even some of the Slytherins, were giving Snape. The Potions Master only ever used that sort of tone when one was in serious trouble. And had Harry been anyone else he’d have been worrying over just how many points lost and detentions gained he would be receiving, not fearing for his life. 

The end of period bell rang loud and shrilly, signalling the end of class and a flurry of activity as students rushed to-and-fro in an attempt to finish and leave the classroom as quickly as possible. Harry turned pleading eyes to Ron and Hermione- praying that either-or would take pity on him and stay. The concerned looks they gave him as they made their way towards the door did nothing to alleviate the tension building within him as the last dribble of students stepped out of the classroom. 

Gulping past the lump of cold dread clogging his throat, Harry slid from his stool, stepping backwards as Snape stalked over towards him. Malfoy still sat in his seat, silent and smirking as he watched the proceedings with an air of amusement. 

“My, my, Potter,” Snape began, all but purring his words out as he moved to corner him in the space between desks, all righteous anger evaporating from his face. “I thought you’d trust us a little bit more than this?” 

Harry’s eyes flickered from Snape to Malfoy then back to Snape, the Potions Master’s words not quite penetrating his mind as he noted the slight opening between Snape, a desk, and his desperate bid for freedom. 

“Harry?” Startled at the sound of his own name, Harry looked upwards, meeting Snape’s eyes. “We don’t want to hurt you.” Harry had never felt more skittish in his life as he warily eyed the man before him; entirely aware of the hard stare Malfoy was giving him from behind. 

“No?” He managed to croak out, too concerned with what would happen to him to worry about the way his voice cracked on that one word. 

Snape shook his head, stepping a little closer, moving forward even as Harry stepped away, pressing himself against the desk behind him. 

“No, Harry,” Snape said, softly, his voice soothing to his nerves even as he stood- tensed and waiting. “We only want to talk.” 

“Talk?” Harry gasped out as Snape’s hands moved to grip the edge of the desk on either side of him, cocooning Harry within his arms. Harry stood on his tiptoes; back arching away from Snape as the man smirked at him- the look somewhat comforting compared what he was expecting. 

“We won’t hurt you, Harry,” Snape quietly spoke. “You needn’t fear.” 

“I- I… what about the prophecy?” He blurted, feeling a blush creeping over his skin at his hastily voiced fears. Snape was so close now. Harry had turned his head away enough to catch sight of Malfoy’s long legs, stretched out before him as the blond surveyed the scene before him. Snape’s breath was hot against his inflamed cheeks, the very tip of his large nose brushing over his flushed skin. 

“The prophecy?” Snape chuckled lightly, the sound rumbling up from deep within his chest. He dipped his head round to Harry’s neck, eliciting a surprised gasp from Harry, his hands curling into the desk he gripped behind him. 

“You need not worry about that, Harry,” Snape breathed against his throat, ghosting his mouth up towards Harry’s ear, “it doesn’t change how we feel about you.”

“Feel?” Harry could almost be mortified at his one-worded answers and would have been if not for the fact that Snape’s mouth had just brushed across his earlobe, before moving across his jaw to hover roguishly above his mouth. 

Snape smirked darkly, “We still wish for you to join with us, Harry. The Inner Circle looks forward to having you as a member.” Harry’s eyes were wide, blood rushing in his ears as he stared at Snape, mouth parted in shock more than anything else as he- _feared; anticipated_ \- the moment when Snape… when the man leaned just that little bit further in… when…

Malfoy cleared his throat. Snape’s gaze flickered to the Slytherin a moment before he eased himself away from Harry, stepping back and giving Harry his space. Looking over at Malfoy’s tight-lipped face, Harry noted the annoyance in the blond boy’s eyes and couldn’t decide whether or not he felt the exact same. 

“You may be interested to know,” Snape smoothly began as if nothing unseemly had almost just occurred, “that we- that is the Inner Circle- have taken the time to discuss your, _situation_ , and decided that we will not use the information gained against you at this point in time.” 

Gathering what wits he still had about him, Harry took a moment to let Snape’s words wash over him, his eyes narrowing as he deduced the meaning behind them. “You won’t be killing me anytime soon, in other words?” He asked with a frown, his heart still doing death-defying acrobatics within his chest. 

Malfoy snorted in amusement. “If you must be so blunt about it,” He said, waving his hand as if it were some minor detail only. 

Harry glared at him before transferring the look to Snape. 

“We won’t be killing you at all, Harry. We have begun research on the best possible ways to combat the prophecy, our endeavours proving fruitful so far.” 

An almost unfamiliar blooming of hope came over him. “Really?” Harry asked, trying no to let his emotions cloud his voice. 

Snape simply nodded. “You will return here this evening. Bring Lupin with you, if he will come. We have much to discuss on this matter. If anyone asks, you have detention this evening.” 

Harry watched as Snape abruptly moved away from him, his expression shuttered as he stalked to his desk, retrieving two slips of pre-written parchment and handing them over- one to Malfoy, one to himself. 

“I suggest you get to your next class of the day, Potter. We don’t want anyone coming to look for you, thinking I’ve killed their Golden Boy.” 

Harry frowned but nodded, his mind a blur of perplexity as he grabbed his bag, leaving behind one oddly silent Malfoy and suddenly defensive Snape as he made his way towards his Charm lesson, already he was focussing on what Voldemort and the Inner Circle had come up with in regards to the prophecy. He could hardly believe that killing him straight off was not an immediate option to them. Halfway towards Charms, Harry stopped and backtracked, heading instead towards Remus’ rooms, needing the werewolf’s company with sudden desperation. 

\- - -

**To Be Continued…?**   
_A/N: Gods, can you believe it? Beyond Redemption Part II has been started! After so long a break from writing BR it feels so strange (but terribly pleasing!) to once again delve into this story and immerse myself into these characters, and I know Aurora is feeling the same way! I hope many of you readers from Part I will stick around for all the drama and ‘plot’ we have planned for Part II of Beyond Redemption- we’re so thankful to you guys for making this story the success it has been and hope we can live up to your expectations with the second instalment! Please review and leave us a comment or two, they are much sought after and appreciated! Thank you all!_  
Peace,  
CS WhiteWolf 

\- - -


	2. Chapter II

  
Author's notes: "Oh I see your scars, I know where they're from, so sensually carved and bleeding until you're dead and gone." With the threat of the prophecy hanging over them all, Harry finds that acceptance and trust aren’t the only things hindering his conversion...  
Sequel to Beyond Redemptioin: Part I  


* * *

** Beyond Redemption: Part II **   
_By Sisters of Darkness_

\- - -

For this Chapter:

**Rating(s)** : R-Rated.  
 **Pairing(s)** : Severus Snape/Draco Malfoy; Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy; Mentions of Severus Snape/Remus Lupin.  
 **Warning(s)** : Adult Language; Mentions of Self-Harm (Cutting).

\- - -

**Chapter II**   
_By Aurora Enkeli Medeis_

**F** ake detention- was there anything quite like it? Draco pondered as he knocked on the door of Severus’ rooms before swinging it open. No doubt Potter was being fawned over by his ‘friends’ because he had to spend an evening in the company of the Potions Master. Draco wondered briefly how Weasel and the Mudblood would react if they knew that Potter was actually quite fond of being around Severus? Well, around and pushed up against a desk. Scowling slightly at the mental image of the day’s earlier occurrence, Draco closed over the door, starting slightly as Severus emerged from apparently nowhere.

“Good evening, Draco,” Severus said as he strode over to a bookcase in the corner of the room, critically eyeing the shelves as he shifted the books in his arms.

“Evening, Severus,” Draco replied, his voice colder and more petulant than he had intended. He heard Severus sigh as he placed a book in its designated place. No doubt in alphabetical order by author, categorized by content, Draco thought to himself. The blond sat down heavily on one end of the black couch, arms draped over the side of the couch and the cushions behind him. He crossed his legs languidly, looking around the room. Draco could feel Severus eyeing him critically from the other side of the room.

“Would you care to share the reason for that petulant look upon your face, Draco?” Severus asked, finishing shelving his books.

“I do not look petulant,” Draco responded, inwardly cringing at the fact that he sounded like a small, annoyed child. Severus raised an eyebrow at him.

“Shall I guess then?” he asked rhetorically, “I will go out on a limb, Draco, and say that it has something to do with Potter.”

Draco felt his lips purse of their own accord.

“Indeed,” Severus said to himself, sweeping across the room and sitting down on the couch beside Draco, “and perhaps,” he continued, “it also has something to do with what transpired after class today?”

Draco folded his arms across his chest. Did Severus really need to know everything that went on in his own head? It was an utter pain sometimes. Draco felt Severus’ fingertips sliding along his cheekbone and in spite of himself he leant into the touch. Severus moved closer, his lips hovering just above Draco’s ear.

“Really, Draco,” Severus began softly, “I thought you had moved past such thing?”

Draco attempted to scowl but failed miserably as Severus’ fingers ran slowly down the curve of his neck. 

“There’s a difference between accepting you and Potter together,” Draco replied shakily, “and having it paraded in front of my face.”

Severus ghosted his lips over Draco’s cheek, pressing a soft kiss to the jut of the blonde’s cheekbone. Draco’s eyes flickered closed, his arms falling from his chest as Severus’ fingers hooked around his pointed chin, turning his head around.

“Was that why you interrupted us?” Severus asked, his voice barely a low whisper. Draco swallowed heavily and nodded slightly, both hating and loving the control that Severus had over him.

Without another word, Severus brushed his lips over Draco’s, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as Draco let out a small sigh, his mouth parting a little. Severus flicked his tongue out, meeting Draco’s as the young blond let out a small groan, his hand coming up to grip Severus’ shoulder. Draco sat up a little pressing himself harder into Severus’ lips. He shuddered as Severus’ hand slipped up over his knee, long fingers of Severus’ other hand carding through his blond hair to grip the back of his head. As Draco was running his hand down Severus’ chest, pulling a small moan from the older man’s mouth, three loud knocks came against the wood of the door.

Severus pulled away quickly, standing up and straightening his robes before Draco had so much as caught his breath. Draco crossed his legs and folded his arms over his chest, scowling at nothing in particular and making a mental note to interrupt Potter and Severus at every opportunity from then on. 

“Good evening, Draco,” Lupin said softly, causing Draco to twitch out of his inner musings.

“Good evening, Professor,” he replied, giving a polite nod of his head as Lupin moved towards two-seater couch Severus had conjured for the occasion, seating himself directly across from Draco, a softly-sad smile twisting his lips as he met Draco’s gaze. 

“Potter,” Draco said sharply as the Gryffindor plopped onto the couch beside Lupin, his hands clasped nervously in his lap.

“Malfoy,” Potter replied, his eyes drifting to Severus as the Potions Master swept past, seating himself on the opposite end of the couch to Draco.

There was an extremely long pause. Draco frowned to himself, noticing the way both Severus’ and Lupin’s backs were held perfectly straight, shoulders tensed slightly as they stared in opposite directions. A lover’s quarrel, perhaps? They couldn’t still be at odds over what had occurred on New Year’s, could they? Draco smirked inwardly- at least he had found something to entertain himself with for the evening. There was nothing quite like being witness to awkward anger.

Potter was frowning as well, green eyes looking from Severus to Lupin and back again. Lupin cracked first, sighing and standing up.

“I’ll make us a pot of tea, shall I?” he turned towards the kitchen before anyone had the chance to reply. Severus made to stand up. “I can manage fine, Severus,” he snapped, surprising Draco with his hostile tone of voice. Severus’ expression darkened as he watched the werewolf leave the room but he stood up and followed. The only sign Draco heard of Lupin acknowledging Severus was a cupboard door slamming too loudly as it was closed.

“What’ wrong with them?” Draco asked quietly, his gaze shifting to Potter. Potter met Draco’s eyes, shrugged, and looked away again. Draco rolled his eyes. Was he the only one here not in an odd mood? 

A few minutes meandered slowly by until both Severus and Lupin reappeared, looking no happier than they did when they entered. Severus sat a plate of biscuits down heavily on the coffee table and Lupin shot him an annoyed look as he sat down the tray holding the teapot and four mugs. Without a word, Lupin filled the four mugs, adding milk and sugar to only two of them. He handed one mug of black tea to Draco and one milky one to Potter, taking the other milk filled one for himself. Draco watched in quiet amusement as Lupin left Severus to retrieve his own mug.

Draco took a sip of the dark brown liquid, wincing as he burnt his tongue. 

“Why doesn’t the Dark Lord want me dead?” Potter asked. Draco heard Severus choke on his tea at the abrupt statement. 

“Great way to start a conversation, Potter,” Draco deadpanned, looking over his steaming mug at the Gryffindor. Potter shot him a glare, his expression softening a fraction when he realised that Draco was joking with him. 

“The Dark Lord has his reasons,” Severus replied smoothly, taking a mouthful of tea.

“And those would be?” Potter asked, his brows furrowed as he watched Severus.

“Tell me, Potter,” Severus said, sitting his mug down, “what makes you think that I am privy to this sort of information?”

Both Lupin and Potter looked at Severus incredulously. Draco could feel himself nearly doing the same thing.

“Because you’re part of the Inner Circle,” Potter responded.

“The Dark Lord still keeps a great deal of things secret, even from the Inner Circle,” Severus said, “from what he _has_ told me, his reasons surround the details of the link that you and he share.”

Draco kept his face impassive as he watched Potter process the information. The first part was true, the Dark Lord often kept things to himself. In fact, Draco reasoned, the second part, while technically true, was omitting a very important detail. The Dark Lord had informed the Inner Circle, after much research, that were Potter to be killed (or kill himself), it would be essentially like killing half of the Dark Lord. He would experience a loss in power and perhaps even a slight loss of his own mind along the way. Why would Severus keep this from Potter? Had he been asked to? Were there still doubts about Potters allegiance? Draco would need to ask. He felt a prickle of irritation that he wasn’t already privy to the details Severus was deigning to share this evening.

Eventually, Potter nodded slowly.

“But what about the prophecy?” he asked, “doesn’t one of us need to die eventually?”

Here came the sticky part, Draco knew as he caught Severus giving him a look out the corner of his eye. Lupin frowned at the two of them. Potter missed the exchange completely as he was staring pensively into his tea.

“A large amount of research is continually being done in regards to the prophecy,” Severus told him. All true, Draco thought to himself, the big question now was whether Severus would share with Lupin and Potter what had been discovered about the prophecy.

“So far,” Severus continued, “something of… interest has come to light.”

“Interest?” Potter asked, his expression one of mild confusion. Draco could have snorted- interest was downgrading it just a little.

“At first, it was thought that perhaps, for the purposes of you now being on our side, the prophecy could simply be ignored,” Severus took a mouthful of tea as Lupin looked at him sceptically. 

“But apparently,” Draco interjected, “prophecies don’t like being ignored.”

“Indeed,” Severus agreed, “much like someone else I know,” he gave Draco a pointed look and the blond gave a small smirk.

“Well,” Potter said, growing clearly tired of the melodramatic way in which Severus was stretching out the story, “what does that mean?”

Draco gave Severus another look before leaning forward to pick up a biscuit.

“It means, Harry,” Draco suppressed a scowl at Severus’ use of ‘Harry’, “that there has been a time limit, if you will, imposed upon the fulfilment of the prophecy.”

“When does my time run out?” Potter asked, his voice growing quiet. Draco thought it strange that Potter referred to it as ‘my’ time instead of ‘our’ time. He supposed that the Gryffindor still didn’t think in terms of being part of the Inner Circle.

“As far as we can estimate at this point- the end of seventh year.”

Potter nodded slowly, staring down at his knees.

“And,” Lupin interrupted, “what happens then?”

There was a brief silence during which Lupin stared at Severus as if he already knew the answer and Potter continued to stare into his tea. Draco sat back on the couch, waiting for the inevitable explosion with a sadistic glee.

“Both you and the Dark Lord will perish.”

Potter’s eyes closed behind his glasses as Lupin’s jaw dropped a little. Draco, more than anything else, was amused by Severus’ choice of words- he made it sound like Potter and the Dark Lord were cakes going mouldy, not people who were going to die. He took a small bite of his biscuit to stop from snorting inappropriately. Although the thought of the Dark Lord ‘perishing’ highly bothered Draco, the fact that the concept of Potter dying seemed to do nothing but amuse him made Draco wonder how he would actually feel were it to transpire. His mind’s automatic answer of “not good” disturbed him slightly. 

“So?” Lupin snapped, “What is being done to prevent this happening?” Severus shot Lupin a glare that very obviously told the werewolf that is wasn’t his place to ask questions but he replied none the less. 

“We have a lead,” Severus said plainly. Outside, Draco appeared unfazed but inside he was gaping in disbelief. First, Severus leaves out important details, and then he blatantly lies to Lupin and Potter. There was no lead. Draco caught Lupin eyeing him, amber eyes narrowed as if he were trying to figure out what Draco was thinking. Draco gave him a look of disinterest before going back to his biscuit.

“A lead?” Lupin asked sceptically. Potter gave him an odd look. Draco almost found it endearing to witness the way in which Lupin was subtly standing up for his ‘cub’ and his welfare. 

“Yes,” Severus replied sharply, “there is a potion that we believe, at this point, could be key in counteracting the… unpleasant effects of the prophecy.”

“And this potion would be?” Lupin said, his eyes narrowed in a search for any signs of falsehood. 

“The exact name is unclear but it involves a rare ingredient called brassica oleracea capitata,” Severus said smoothly, “as soon as we know more you will be the first to know,” Severus purposefully directed the last part at Potter and not Lupin.

Draco, not for the first time in his life, found himself amazed at Severus’ ability to flawlessly lie, even to someone who loved him to the extent that Lupin always seemed to. This evening not included, of course. 

There was no lead, no potion and certainly no way that a ‘brassica oleracea’ was going to help them even a little bit. Draco assumed that neither Lupin nor Potter knew what it was, hence Severus’ rather random choosing of it.

Lupin sat back on the couch, seemingly satisfied as the clock in the other room chimed. 

“You should both be getting back to your common rooms,” Lupin said quietly, his eyes falling to Potter, “especially you, Harry- you’ve got a lot further to travel.”

Potter looked up at Lupin and nodded slowly. Lupin gave the Gryffindor a soft smile and Draco watched as the werewolf carded his fingers through Potter’s mop of black hair. Potter eyed Severus and Draco uneasily. 

“Draco,” Severus said, “help me take these through to the kitchen,” he said, indicating to the plate and tray on the coffee table. Draco nodded, understanding that Severus was allowing Lupin and Potter a moment alone. Picking up the plate, Draco followed Severus out the room, catching sight of Potter falling into Lupin’s arms just before he entered the kitchen.

Draco frowned as he sat the plate on the work surface. Potter really did have far too much to deal with, whether he and Potter got along was inconsequential- no one deserved the weight of the world on their shoulders. Except maybe the Weasley’s but that was a different matter. 

“Why did you tell them there was a lead?” Draco whispered but Severus shook his head. 

“Not now,” he hissed, nodding for Draco to go back into the living room. Draco frowned but nodded all the same.

When he entered the living room, Potter was already at the door, Lupin standing protectively by his side with a hand on the boy’s shoulder. Potter gave a brief nod.

“Goodbye, Professor,” Potter said to Severus, opening up the door and giving Lupin another briefer hug. Draco turned quickly away.

“Severus,” he said with a nod and Severus nodded back, his black eyes flicking over Draco’s head to look at Lupin who made no signs of being about to leave. Draco walked swiftly across the room, standing just behind Potter in the doorway.

“Goodnight, Professor,” he said politely to Lupin. 

“Goodnight, Draco,” Lupin replied, a soft smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. Potter left the room and turned up the corridor, nearly disappearing before Draco even heard Severus’ room door close.

“Potter!” he called up the hallway. The Gryffindor stopped but didn’t turn round as Draco caught up with him. 

They walked together in silence, far enough apart that their shoulders only brushed occasionally. Within moments, the pair had reached the staircase that would take Potter to the Entrance Hall. Potter had barely gotten his foot on the first step when Draco grabbed his wrist and pulled him near. 

“We really don’t want you dead,” Draco said, realising before he’d uttered the words that they weren’t exactly comforting. Then again, comforting wasn’t something he did all that well.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Potter replied sarcastically. Draco resisted the temptation to snap back.

“I thought it would at least have been better than brandishing a sword at you or something,” Draco responded, his fingers slipping under the sleeve of Potter’s robes. The Gryffindor hissed as Draco’s skin brushed over the cuts there but he didn’t pull away.

“Is brandishing a sword something you are likely to do, Malfoy?” Potter asked, his eyebrow raising just a fraction. Draco rolled his eyes.

“It was a figure of speech, Potter,” Draco said. Potter gave a soft snort as he shook his head in amusement.

“Night, Malfoy.”

“Night, Potter,” Draco replied, biting his bottom lip just as Potter went to pull his wrist away.

He yanked, perhaps a little too forcefully, the Gryffindor towards him, kissing him embarrassingly clumsily on the lips. Draco quickly gathered himself again, fingers briefly brushing Potter’s cheek as he kissing his bottom lip softly, lingeringly. Just as he thought Potter’s eyes were about to close, Draco pulled away quickly, barely looking at Potter before he turned on his heel and hurried down the corridor.

As he made a left towards the Slytherin common room Severus’ words from earlier echoed around his head-

_“The exact name is unclear but it involves a rare ingredient called brassica oleracea capitata…”_

This time, Draco openly laughed.

\- - -

**To Be Continued...?**  
 _A/N:_ Hello all my gorgeous BR readers! Long time no see. Well for some of you anyway! Firstly- it’s fucking good to be back inside the head of Draco Malfoy. Secondly- since last you heard from me (all the way back in Chapter 56 of Part I) I have gone from Drarry fangirl to hating Drarry. Go figure! But apparently I don’t seem to mind writing it here. Thirdly- thank you to everyone who reviewed the first chapter. Let’s not let the novelty of BR continuing wear off and leave CS and I the same, or even more, lovely comments for this and all future chapters. Believe me, things are going to be …well it’s BR so they’re going to be fuck-upedly-wonderful. Yes, upedly- it’s a new word. As you can tell I am completely hyper at being back in the BR-verse so I’ll close with:  
Take care sweethearts,  
Rora.

\- - -


	3. Chapter III

  
Author's notes: "Oh I see your scars, I know where they're from, so sensually carved and bleeding until you're dead and gone." With the threat of the prophecy hanging over them all, Harry finds that acceptance and trust aren’t the only things hindering his conversion...  
Sequel to Beyond Redemptioin: Part I  


* * *

** Beyond Redemption: Part II **   
_By Sisters of Darkness_

\- - -

For this Chapter:

**Rating(s)** : R/18-Rated.  
 **Pairing(s)** : Remus Lupin/Severus Snape.  
 **Warning(s)** : None.

\- - -

**Chapter III**   
_By CS WhiteWolf_

**S** everus closed the door behind Draco somewhat more sharply that was necessary before turning- folded arms and scowling brow- to behold Remus who stood in a similar pose, an uncharacteristic frown of anger upon the werewolf’s face as he all but glared at Severus. And though Severus returned the look with the same misguided ferocity, he yearned for a moment to be the type of person easily able to bridge the hurt that stood between them; that with a kind word and a soft touch he could make Remus forget that he had kept him from his cub, could stop the werewolf resenting him his actions every time they so much as looked at each other. 

But Severus wasn’t so easily able to mend things and thus saw not the point in even trying as he pushed away from the door and stalked towards the kitchen area. It’s not as if Remus would believe his sincerity were he to try. Severus didn’t think he’d believe in his own sincerity were he in Remus’ place. 

“What do you want, Lupin?” He called over his shoulder as he put some water to boil, not particularly wanting another cup of tea but needing something to keep his hands busy with. He shot a quick cleaning charm at the mugs they’d used earlier, imitating the werewolf’s own actions by thumping them down rather heavily upon the counter, the resounding bang loud in the unnatural and tensed silence of the room. 

Moving over towards the cupboard that held the teabags, Severus tried not to jerk back his arm as Remus’ fingers closed about his wrist, stilling his actions and tugging until Severus was turned to face him; the Potions Master quickly finding himself trapped between the counter behind him and the angry werewolf before him. 

“What do I want?” Remus hissed through clenched teeth, his eyes blazing that wolfish amber-gold and brown, the kind that spoke of emotions running high- of anger and frustration and fear, the very taste of it palpable in the air between them. Severus stood tensed, his whole body poised for flight even as he found himself entrapped and unable to escape. 

“Yes,” Severus daringly snapped, “What do you want, Lupin? Because I don’t think my _company_ is on your agenda for this evening.” Severus sneered at him, blanching inwardly as the werewolf bared his teeth back, the white of the canines glinting in the candlelight of the room. 

“Oh, but Severus,” Remus purred dangerously, his grip around Severus’ wrist tightening fractionally as he pushed forward, pressing himself chest-to-chest against the Slytherin Head and pinning him further against the counter, “Your company is very much sought after tonight.” 

Severus let out a breath of air at Remus’ abrasive behaviour, moving his free arm to try and slip behind him, fingers reaching blindly for his wand even as Remus caught the action and shot his hand out to grab at Severus’ other wrist, catching it in a firm if awkward hold, his eyes glinting at the soft cry of shock-muffled-pain the action tore from Severus’ lips. 

“Do you take me for a complete idiot, Severus?” Remus asked quietly, the soft of his voice sending a chill of shivers through Severus’ spine as- pride aside- he shook his head negatively, face paling under the werewolf’s scrutiny as his hair fell forward to frame his face, to hide him from the danger standing right in front of him.

“No?” Remus confirmed, cocking his head to the side and leaning in a little bit more, nails biting into the flesh of Severus’ wrists, “Then what kind of bullshit are you feeding me? Feeding _Harry_?” 

Severus swallowed heavily, feeling the beading of sweat upon his brow as tendrils of fear crept through his body at the werewolf’s possessive-protective behaviour. “I… it isn’t…”

“Don’t lie to me, Severus!” Remus actually growled. “Have a lead, do you? Researching potions, are you? The only thing you’re doing is making a mockery of that prophesy and of the boy it involves!” 

“What we discussed tonight,” Severus breathed out, pushing with his chest to try and dislodge Remus, to perhaps shift him enough so that he didn’t feel as if the werewolf was about to rip his throat out the next time he so much as opened his mouth, “What I said- it was for Harry’s benefit more than anyone else’s!”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Remus eyed him sharply, smelling the sudden tang of blood as Severus caught the inside of his cheek with his teeth, biting down into the soft flesh until it gave way in an attempt to calm himself and stop himself from panicking further in Remus’ hold as the werewolf leaned further in, invading his personal space in a rather effective way. Severus tugged at his arms, finally putting up more of a struggle against Remus in an effort to dislodge the werewolf. 

At first Remus’ hold only tightened, the werewolf leaning in to nuzzle roughly at is neck- Severus’ eyes clenching closed as he breathed deeply through his nose, the taste of blood stronger in his mouth now as his tongue took the brunt of his bite as he tried to stop himself from crying out and showing weakness, trying to tell himself that no matter how pissed off the werewolf became with him, that Remus would never purposely do something to hurt him… right?

_Not even for the love of his cub_? 

Severus unsuccessfully choked back a whimper, as images of Remus forcing him to submit, to speak or act against his will overwhelmed him. Remus lifted his head, blinking at Severus’ behaviour a moment before flinching away as if he’d been slapped. He stumbled back the short space between counters, staring at Severus as if the man had grown another head, not quite believing how raw he’d been with him. 

The burn of anger in his chest was still strong even as he watched a shudder wrack through Severus’ body, the bloom of guilt swift to take over as the other man drew his arms to his chest, rubbing at his bruised wrists with a wince a moment before he looked up through the curtain of his hair to glare at Remus, swiftly reaching behind him and taking his wand into his hand. Remus tried not to flinch at the action, but he failed miserably. 

“There is no lead.” Said Severus hoarsely, eyeing the werewolf warily. 

Remus bit his tongue against replying, simply gesturing abruptly with his hand in indication for Severus to explain himself. Oh, he’d known from the offset that more or less everything the Potions Master had told them earlier that evening was complete drivel, but to hear the man admit that there was perhaps absolutely no truth whatsoever in his words, it was not something Remus had expected- not entirely.

He made to step forward, stilling as he watched Severus all but recoil, sliding himself away and towards the doorway, his wand gripped so tightly in his hand that his knuckles strained white in the dull glow of the room. Tilting his chin upwards- in defiance- Severus dared the werewolf to comment on his behaviour. 

“We’ve been looking into everything- anything- that can be used to either prevent or postpone the effects of the prophecy,” Severus started, dragged his eyes up to meet Remus’ and to hold the gaze, “But so far we’ve turned up nothing.”

It was as if he’d just indulged in one of Dumbledore’s ghastly sherbet lemons, the bitterness of the citrus-tasting sweet always made him flush horribly, a wave of heat coming over him as if he’d just partaken of something too terribly sour. This moment was no different, only instead of sherbet lemons; Remus tasted the bitterness of a truth he did not want to hear. 

“As soon as Harry turns eighteen,” Severus whispered, “both he and the Dark Lord will die.”

Remus felt his knees buckle, his legs giving way and leaving him to slump to the cold stone of the floor beneath him. He stared unseeingly ahead of him as Severus’ words resounded about his mind and thoughts of Harry’s imminent death took hold of him. 

“Nothing?” Whispered Remus, “Is there nothing?” 

“We’re still in the early stages of research,” Severus’ reply was soft as he cautiously made his way over to Remus, standing a few steps away and looking down at the bowed head of curling, grey-brown hair. He found himself having to twist his hands into hesitant fists as the indecision of whether or not to reach out and touch Remus, to offer him comfort overcame him. The twinges in his wrists helped to stay his actions. 

“What of Harry?” Remus looked up, his eyes fixing on Severus in a way that caused the Potions Master’s heart to jolt. Remus’ eyes were shining, chocolate-brown now and swimming with a hurt and little-boy-lost expression that struck at him, leaving Severus feeling awkward and uncertain in how to respond. 

“What of him?” He asked dryly. 

“Shouldn’t he be told?” The words however lacked any sort of conviction either way, Remus sounding more dazed than anything. 

“Perhaps.” Severus replied softly, crouching down to Remus’ level; he too seemed unsure of any sort of correct answer. “It would, of course, be your prerogative to inform him.” 

Remus flicked his gaze over to look at Severus again, their eyes meeting and locking. 

“How can I tell him?” Remus asked in a broken-sounding voice. They stared intently at each other, pain and fear and hurt and anger swirling between them until the sound of water hissing as it sizzling upon a hot surface interrupted the intensity of their stare; a quick flick of Severus’ wand had the boiled water contained and the flame beneath the pot killed. 

He slowly turned back to Remus, his body tensed in a completely different way as he wet his lips, a vulnerable expression crossing his face also as he shuffled slightly forward, kneeling a pace or two away from the werewolf. 

“More tea?” He asked softly. The armful of werewolf he got in return was answer enough as Remus launched himself at him; not out of anger, but of grief- he clung to Severus, arms thrown about the Potions Master’s neck in a hold just as tight as the one about his waist as Severus’ arms slipped around him and gripped him deathly close, all animosity between them forgotten for the moment as they simply clung to one another. 

With a strangled sob, Remus buried his face in Severus’ neck, the press of his nose cold but gentle against his flesh as Severus rested his chin upon the werewolf’s shoulder, sighing heavily at the press of lips to the patch of skin just below his earlobe. One small kiss became many as Remus moaned with an unreachable need, choosing to lave Severus’ neck with worshiping licks and kisses as he tried not to think about the prophecy, about the time limit, about his cub- his dying cub.

Severus tugged at Remus’ waist, pulling the werewolf closer, into his lap almost as he too moaned, wanting the oblivion of Remus’ warm mouth to keep him from thinking; turning his head towards the werewolf, Severus offered his lips willingly into a fast kiss of desperation and neediness, the lingering taste of coppery blood still coating his mouth Remus lapped at his tongue, the taste of tea still rich upon the werewolf’s own. 

“Severus,” Remus breathed against his mouth, sucking at the man’s lower lip, his hands reaching up to frame Severus’ face. “Severus,” he pleaded, his eyes expressing his want. “Make me forget,” He whispered, watching the flicker of Severus’ eyes as the man swallowed heavily, nodding his head slightly before moving to stand, his hands holding Remus’ own as he pulled the werewolf up and into his arms, fingers running through the curl of his hair, brushing across the upset flush of his cheeks and the opened-pout of his mouth. 

“Make me forget, Severus,” Remus repeated, leaning in for another kiss, whispering his apologies as he clutched at Severus, allowing the man to led him out of the kitchen area and towards his bedroom. 

\- - -

**To Be Continued…?**   
_A/N: Firstly, I’d like to thank those of you who reviewed chapter two, and apologise also for the length of wait between that chapter and this. I suppose restarting BR before the festive/new year period wasn’t the smartest of things to do! However, we’ll hopefully get back into the swing of updates now that we’re into January and nothing terribly exciting is upcoming, (well, nothing exciting enough to prevent BR from progressing onwards!)_  
Speaking of progression though, I would just like to let everyone know that yesterday (11/01/06) was Beyond Redemption’s first birthday- how exciting is that? You can of course find the whole gushing over the occasion up on [our LiveJournal](http://www.livejournal.com/users/br_inner_circle/) for those of you interested!   
And on another interesting note (yes, so much has been happening folks!) Aurora and myself have created our [own website](http://www.beyond-redemption.net), mostly for the hosting of Beyond Redemption (where [Chapter 3 can also be found](http://www.beyond-redemption.net/viewstory.php?sid=4&chapter=3)), but also for our work as separate authors. Please feel free to toddle on over and have a look around, we’re still figuring out the ropes of it all!  
That’s all for now guys, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and please review, we’ll aim for faster updates from now on!  
Peace,  
CS WhiteWolf 

\- - -


	4. Chapter IV

  
Author's notes: "Oh I see your scars, I know where they're from, so sensually carved and bleeding until you're dead and gone." With the threat of the prophecy hanging over them all, Harry finds that acceptance and trust aren’t the only things hindering his conversion...  
Sequel to Beyond Redemptioin: Part I  


* * *

** Beyond Redemption: Part II **   
_By Sisters of Darkness_

\- - -

For this Chapter:

**Rating(s)** : R/18-Rated.  
 **Pairing(s)** : Mentions of Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy; Mentions of Severus Snape/Remus Lupin.  
 **Warning(s)** : Drug Use; Mentions of Eating Disorders and Self-Harm.

\- - -

**Chapter IV**   
_By Aurora Enkeli Medeis_

**T** he Great Hall was full of chatter that evening as pupils passed around slices of toast and talked about homework, classes, professors and who fancied whom. After six years at Hogwarts, Draco had become somewhat of an expert at blocking out the inane ramblings of his fellow students. He was picking at the edges of his toast, grey eyes scanning the head table and noting that Severus and Lupin were sitting beside one another, though they appeared to be ignoring one another, Draco assumed it to be a sign that they had resolved whatever their issue had been the previous night.

Movement across the hall jerked Draco from what was about to become an ongoing stare in Severus’ general direction. Potter, looking as awake and cheery as ever, was standing in between his two ‘best friends’ as they rose from the Gryffindor table, books tucked under arms as they made their way to their common room.

Potter lagged behind the other two slightly, looking in Draco’s direction as he paused to re-adjust his hold on the textbooks. The Gryffindor had clearly slept less than usual if the redness of his eyes were anything to go by. Then again, Draco realised, Potter had just found out that there was every possibility that he would be dead in a year and a half’s time. Most people would probably lose sleep over something like that, he mused almost mildly before sighing at the thought and setting his toast back down on his plate, suddenly feeling less hungry than usual.

He gave Potter the most subtle of nods as they passed each other in the doorway and went their separate ways. Draco quickly checked his watch as he hastily descended the stairs into the dungeons, assuring himself that he had enough time to get back to his dormitory before he needed to be in his first class. He narrowly avoided walking right over the top of a first year when he arrived at the entrance to the Slytherin common room. 

Taking the stairs two at a time, Draco reached his dormitory within moments and swung open the door, making sure it closed properly when it bounced back off the wall. He knelt down in front of his trunk, spelling it open and reaching inside.

Inside his trunk, somewhere in amongst the jumble of clothes and trinkets, there were four little secrets, wrapped in plastic and hidden away since the beginning of January. His fingers wrapped around one of the bags and he pulled it out, staring for several moments in silent wonderment at the white powder contained within it. 

He was playing with fire, he knew. Knew it well. Even having the drugs in his possession would most likely cause Severus to go completely berserk. But Draco had his reasons for getting his hands on more cocaine- he couldn’t take it anymore. He needed it and he was weak but he didn’t give a toss.

Clambering up from the floor, Draco sat himself down at the desk, tipping out a measure of cocaine and sorting it into a line with well-practiced ease. Draco wiped his nose, blinking back a stream of tears as he arranged another, smaller, line for himself. Without a thought, Draco snorted up the line, sitting back heavily in his chair, closing his eyes as he let the high wash over him. 

With a sigh, Draco remembered that he had planned to visit Severus that evening. Perhaps it hadn’t been a good idea to snort so much cocaine before hand. Spelling the stray granules from the desk, Draco closed the bag over and slipped it inside his pocket. He slid off his chair and crouched by his trunk, making sure it was completely locked up before he left the dormitory.

Draco paused, turning to view himself in the mirror. His eyes were rather wide and a slight sheen of sweat was visible on his forehead if the light from the candles hit him in just the right way. He smoothed one side of his hair over the right side of his face, covering most of his forehead and his right eye. Maybe he would get away with it. Draco snorted at himself. The only chance he had of getting away with it was if Severus barely looked at him at all.

\- - -

Draco smoothed his hair down as he reached Severus’ classroom, knocking on the door twice before striding in, the door slamming shut behind him. The class was dark, other than a couple of torches flickering dimly on the walls. Light streamed from the crack around the door to Severus’ office and Draco made his way towards it. He could hear the scratching of a quill and the occasional tut of disapproval, indicating that the Potions Master was marking some sub-par essays.

Knocking again, Draco slipped into the office, eyes adjusting to the only slightly brighter light in the room. Good, Draco thought to himself, less light meant less chance of being caught. 

“Good evening, Draco,” Severus said curtly, dipping his quill in a nearby inkwell before continuing to scribble something at the end of someone’s essay.

“Severus,” Draco replied, sitting himself down across from the Potions Master. 

Without looking away from his work, Severus opened the drawer of his desk, extracting a vial of green potion and sliding it across the wood to Draco. The blond took the vial and uncorked it, put the glass to his lips and knocked the liquid back. His winced a little as it burned the back of his throat. 

“Now if you don’t mind, Draco, I’m extremely busy this evening,” Severus said, taking the empty vial from the blond and returning it to his drawer. Draco pursed his lips and folded his arms across his chest. Even though he didn’t want to be caught with his new supply of cocaine, he wasn’t quite ready to leave yet.

“Why did you lie to Potter?” Draco asked, crossing his legs and kicking his foot back and forward. Severus sighed heavily and pinched at the bridge of his nose with his free hand.

“Why does it bother you?” Severus asked in reply, “I would have thought you of all people would not have a problem with lying to Harry.”

Draco suppressed a cringe at hearing Potter referred to by his first name as he leant forward in his chair.

“And I would have thought _you_ of all people would know how Potter feels about being lied to.”

Severus stayed silent, adding the essay he was marking to one pile and taking a fresh one from a different pile. Growing annoyed with the silence, Draco sat back heavily, the chair creaking under his weight.

“Why did you lie to him?” Draco asked again. 

“I would have thought that was obvious,” Severus responded, scowling down at the parchment in front of him.

Draco frowned, “I’d assumed,” he began, “that you were trying to protect him from a painful truth.”

Severus nodded.

“If you knew that then why did you ask?” The Potions Master asked. Draco sighed, hoping Severus didn’t notice the way his breathing hitched. The drugs were really taking their affect now.

“I know why you did it, but I don’t know _why_ you did it.” Draco said, hoping his annunciation would indicate to Severus what he was asking. “After all the times Potter has been lied to, after all we have been trying to do to get him to trust us, _you_ go and lie to him. I just don’t understand it, Severus.”

Severus sat down his quill and ran his hands over his face.

“I was unsure of how to tell him,” he replied simply. Draco’s eyes narrowed as he watched Severus scratch at his scalp a little. He was possibly even more confused now- Severus had never before had any trouble voicing anything.

“What does that mean? You were ‘unsure of how to tell him’.” Draco said lowly. He watched Severus’ shoulders tense as the Potions Master straightened up, meeting Draco’s gaze directly.

“It means exactly what it sounds like,” Severus snapped defensively, “I didn’t want to be the one to tell him that he could very well be dead in a years time.”

Draco blinked a couple of times as a realisation struck him. Severus cared far more about Potter than he had first thought.

“Someone had to tell him the truth,” Draco replied, “he will find out eventually and the longer we wait, the worse it will be. God damn it, Severus,” Draco said exasperatedly, “you were the one who lectured me about being a problem in relation to Potter joining the Inner Circle.” 

Draco could feel the drugs coursing through his veins, giving him a rush of adrenaline and lowering his inhibitions enough to tell Severus exactly what he thought. He stood up quickly from his chair, almost knocking it over.

“You’re nothing but a hypocrite,” the blond spat.

He turned on his heel before Severus had the chance to snap back and stormed from the room. His heart was pounding furiously in his chest as he quickly ascended the stairs into the Entrance Hall, pushing past the few students still straggling out from dinner.

Draco walked swiftly along the corridors and up several flights of stairs. Finally, ignoring his trouble in breathing, Draco reached the corridor at the end of which sat the door to the classroom where Potter inevitably would be. The blond took a minute to regain his breath as he walked slowly down the corridor. He stopped at the door and sighed. Someone had to tell Potter the truth, Draco just couldn’t believe it was going to be him that did it. 

With his fingers wrapped around the door handle, Draco pushed.

The door swung open, grinding squeakily to a halt before it even had the chance to bang off the wall.

“You know, Potter,” Draco drawled, closing the door over, “you really are an amazingly easy person to find.” Potter barely looked over his shoulder as he blew out a plume of smoke.

“Funny,” he replied, “you seem to be the only one bursting through that door every night.” Potter turned back round to stare out at the night sky.

Brow furrowed, Draco wandered across the room, easily dodging the edges of dust-covered desks in spite of the darkness of the room. He could feel, in his chest, his heart pounding harder than it should be, no doubt a result of having so much cocaine in his system after being without large doses for so long.

Draco leaned against the wall beside the alcove in which Potter was seated, currently inhaling deeply on the end of a nearly defunct cigarette. The Gryffindor eyed Draco subtly but the inquisitive glance was not lost on the blond. Not that Draco was vastly surprised at being given an odd look- his current condition was far from subtle. Draco watched the butt of Potter’s cigarette fall towards the ground below as it was flicked away.

“So what are we brooding over this evening?” Draco asked, eyeing the notebook sitting nearby and inwardly twitching with the urge to break the silence. Potter shrugged.

“The usual,” he replied plainly, glance drifting downwards to focus on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Draco bit the inside of his mouth. Part of him wanted to reveal the truth to Potter but he wasn’t about to share the knowledge so openly. He needed an opening, an opportunity, and there was only one way he could think of to create such a chance- baiting Potter until the Gryffindor said the right thing.

“Well what could _that_ be?” Draco pondered out loud, “Dead Godfather? Annoying friends? Or the knowledge that you could very well be dead in just over a years time?” Draco tapped a finger against his lips theatrically as he pretended to think on the matter. Potter turned to him, frowning.

“Do you have some sort of clone, Malfoy?” Potter asked sincerely, “Or a second personality that is only civil on certain days of the week?”

Draco snorted. He had often wondered that exact same thing, not that Potter needed to know that, of course. Potter pulled out another cigarette and placed it between his lips. With a spark followed by the flare of a yellow flame, Draco’s nostrils were assaulted by the arid smell of tobacco. Potter sighed as he exhaled a line of smoke.

“I’ve tried not to think about it,” Potter admitted after a few moments, “I’ve always had death hanging over me, it’s nothing new. Besides,” he continued, “Snape said there was a lead with this capitata thing.” Potter waved his left hand around as he finished talking, taking a drag on the cigarette.

“Brassica oleracea capitata,” Draco corrected with a roll of his eyes. Despite the sarcastic gesture, Draco was inwardly breathing a sigh of relief at finally having an excuse to tell Potter the truth. He wondered briefly why he was so concerned with Potter finding out the truth. Perhaps he had a moral side after all.

“But,” he said finally, turning to face Potter properly, his left shoulder now leaning on the wall, “I don’t think a brassica oleracea capitata will do you much good.”

Potter swung his legs around, dangling them into the room.

“What do you mean?” He asked, eyes narrowed as he looked at Draco.

“The lead that Severus told you about,” Draco said slowly, meeting Potter’s gaze, “It’s not real…”

A silence rung around the room as the last syllables of Draco’s statement echoed in the lonely corners of the room.

“You’re lying,” Potter hissed through his teeth angrily, “You’re a liar.”

Draco shook his head, “Normally you’d be right,” Draco said honestly, “but it’s Severus who is the liar.”

Potter looked away, eyes glaring down at the floor.

“But this potion, the brassica thing,” Potter stopped as if sorting through a million questions at once. Which Draco realised was probably exactly what the Gryffindor was doing.

“He made it all up?” Potter eventually said, his tone becoming abruptly blank. For a brief second Draco found himself surprised by the sudden surge of anger he felt towards the people who had lied to Potter. Severus included.

“Technically? Yes.” Draco responded. Potter frowned and looked up at him.

“What do you mean ‘technically’?”

Draco sighed, taking the slightest of side steps towards Potter.

“Well a brassica oleracea capitata is a real thing, just not something that will save you from death.”

“What is it?” Potter asked, staring across the room, barely smoked cigarette held forgotten by his side.

“It’s cabbage,” Draco said bluntly. In any other situation, Draco mused, and if happening to someone else, this whole thing would be entirely too amusing.

“Cabbage?” Potter repeated blankly. Draco nodded his head once.

“Cabbage.”

The silence that fell over them was highly charged, mostly by Potter’s anger but by something else that Draco couldn’t quite pinpoint. 

“Why did Snape lie?” Potter asked slowly.

“I have no idea,” Draco lied. Bugger, he shouted internally, it was apparently all too easy to lie to Potter. Draco listened to his own heartbeat, the irregular thump thump-thump still beating against his insides. He head was still swimming; breathing becoming shallower than it ought to. Focussing on the sharp ins and outs caused Draco to be startled, to the point of stumbling backwards, when Potter leapt off the windowsill and stormed across the room. 

Gathering himself back together, Draco tore after Potter, managing to grab his wrist just as the Gryffindor threw open the door.

“Let go, Malfoy,” Potter spat as he tried to wrench himself away. Draco’s grip on the bony and scab covered wrist was too strong and Potter failed to escape.

“Where are you storming off to?” Draco asked lowly, “Off to bed to slice your wrists?” he hissed in what was almost a sing-song voice, “That won’t solve anything.”

Draco squeezed Potter’s wrist tighter than necessary, causing the Gryffindor to hiss in pain slightly was several cuts split open.

“You’re a fine one to talk, Malfoy,” Potter spat, “Don’t even try to act like the image of reasoning- you think I haven’t noticed that you have some sort of drug problem? Do you think I’m an idiot?”

Draco opened his mouth to reply but Potter cut him off.

“Don’t even answer,” He snapped, “And just so you know, I’m _not_ going to my dormitory; I have some questions I want _truthfully_ answered.”

Potter wrenched his wrist away and stormed from the room, leaving Draco to slump, defeated, against the doorframe, banging his head on the wood a couple of times. It was obvious that Potter would very shortly be bursting through Severus’ door, demanding answers for what had happened. Draco couldn’t really blame him but he certainly wasn’t going to follow. A pissed off Potter would only piss of Severus and the two of them together and infuriated was not something Draco wanted to deal with. Then again, if he didn’t, who knows what could happen. Severus and Potter both had habits of saying stupidly hurtful things when angered. 

Draco banged his head off the doorframe again, fishing around in his pocket for the small bag of white powder. Bringing it out, Draco opened it and scooped the smallest amount onto the nail of his pinky and snorted it, careful not to drop any. He repeated the action twice more until he felt sated, tying the bag over and returning it to his pocket.

He closed his eyes, leaning his head against the doorframe as he pondered his situation. As his heart thrummed hard in his chest, breathing growing uneven at an almost unpleasant level, Draco slowly realised that there was someone, nearby, who not only would be able to calm down Potter, but who could probably placate Severus too.

With that, Draco pushed himself off the doorframe, closed the classroom door over and hurried along the corridor, descending the stairs towards his intended destination.

\- - -

**To Be Continued…?**   
_A/N: Well fuck if I didn’t take my time with this. Real life has gone completely and utterly insane what with being back at University and the development of a social life that I don’t remember signing up for. You can’t all stay mad at me though, right? Things should ease up for the next few weeks, giving me time to actually participate in the fandom (I swear I have barely even been able to check mail in the last few weeks). This is good news because some of the things in up and coming chapters are very …exciting._  
Love, cookies, snogs and requests of forgiveness,  
Aurora. 

\- - -


	5. Chapter V

  
Author's notes: "Oh I see your scars, I know where they're from, so sensually carved and bleeding until you're dead and gone." With the threat of the prophecy hanging over them all, Harry finds that acceptance and trust aren’t the only things hindering his conversion...  
Sequel to Beyond Redemptioin: Part I  


* * *

** Beyond Redemption: Part II **   
_By Sisters of Darkness_

\- - -

For this Chapter:

**Rating(s)** : R/18-Rated.  
 **Pairing(s)** : Mild Severus Snape/Harry Potter.  
 **Warning(s)** : Angst; Mentions of Solvent Abuse.

\- - -

**Chapter V**   
_By CS WhiteWolf_

**T** he last thing Severus expected to encounter the evening after antagonising then comforting a distressed werewolf was the young and angry Gryffindor that came storming into his office without so much as a pretence to propriety. 

Before Severus had even been aware of Harry barging into his rooms, the door had already been slammed shut and Harry was standing- all flushed face and heavy breathing- before his desk, hands pressed down upon the hardwood surface as he glared at him. 

Severus was quick to mask his surprise behind a blank and mildly curious expression, simply staring Harry back for the moment it took the younger man to catch his breath and inform him as to just what had gotten him so riled up. If anything, Severus had expected Harry to be moping and depressed after having been told his death was more or less imminent. Perhaps even resignation, and the foolhardy kind of hope that only a Gryffindor could have at such a declaration. 

He had not expected anger. Never would have expected anger, at least, not until Harry spoke. 

“A cabbage?” The words were hissed through clenched teeth, with such an accusation to them that Severus felt momentarily speechless and not a little uncomfortable.

“A cabbage is supposed to save my life?” Harry’s nails were digging into his desk, his whole body thrumming with righteous anger as he waited for a response.

“It’s a far-flung theory, Mr Potter,” Severus began, feeling a distorted sense of amusement, “but we’ll give it some consideration.”

“You bastard!” Harry spat at him, making Severus start with surprise, “You told me-! You let me believe-! How could you lie to me?” Harry pushed away from his desk, hands clenching into fists at his side. “I thought I could trust you,” He began hoarsely, “But I can’t. You’re just like you always were. I thought you were different now… I thought…”

Severus leaned forward, his mask slipping slightly at the way Harry was behaving, was speaking to him, what he was _saying_ to him. How could the boy have found out so soon? He doubted Remus had told him, and surely Draco would not have been so foolish? And without being insulting about it, Harry couldn’t have figured it out himself unless he’d asked someone… Granger, perhaps? But no, the very idea of Harry sharing any information, no matter how small with the little know-it-all was ridiculous, especially now. 

“How did you find out?” Severus asked softly, running his index finger over his lips as he considered whose name Harry would supply, if any. 

The Gryffindor’s eyes narrowed, “Does it matter how? The point is I know! The fact is you lied to me. Don’t you have anything to say about it?”

“What would you have me say, Mr Potter? You obviously know the truth of your situation. Should I perhaps apologise for misleading you?” 

“Misleading? Is that what you call it?” Harry snapped, stepping back up towards Snape’s desk. “You let me think you had a lead, something that would help stop the prophecy from killing me, from killing Voldemort! Why didn’t you just tell me that there was nothing? No lead? No potion?” By the time Harry finished, he was shouting, his face flushed with rage, eyes shining with betrayal. 

Severus pushed himself to his feet, standing and circling round his desk to tower imposingly over the boy. 

“Kindly keep your tone down, Mr Potter,” he hissed, “Lest you wish the whole of Hogwarts to hear of your plight.” 

“You told me-!”

“Yes!” Severus snapped back at him, stilling his speech. “I know what I told you! I know I withheld the truth from you, but should you stop to consider this all a little more rationally, perhaps you would be able to understand why?” 

Harry was still glaring at him even as he swallowed back another tirade and spat out a rather forceful, “Why?”

“Can’t you think?” Severus asked, stepping forward once more to block Harry against his desk, holding him in a similar position to the one in yesterday’s Potions classroom. 

“Are you trying to intimidate me?” Harry asked, glaring at him even as his body tensed up. He lifted one hand to Severus’ shoulder, pushing slightly at the older man as Severus bent his head forward, his face coming within inches of Harry’s own. Close enough to see the tremble of the boy’s lower lip as he sucked in a breathy-gasp, to see the flickering smudge of dark lashes as he blinked quickly, to see the blush-pink stain spread across his cheeks as Severus moved forward and pressed his lips to the lobe of Harry’s ear.

“Intimidate you, Mr Potter?” Severus whispered against the sensitive skin of his ear, “I mean to kiss you.” 

Harry’s gasp was louder this time at his words, at the caress of Severus’ lips up the curve of his ear, circling round to press against his temple. The hand on Severus’ shoulder clenched into the material of his robes, grabbing a fistful of the stuff as his other hand gripped the desk behind him for support. 

Harry tried to turn his head away, “If you think you can- Oh!” Only succeeding in baring his throat to the taunting burn of Snape’s lips against his skin… oh how he’d dreamed of having this man’s lips on him, tasting every inch of him as he had Remus… 

Hanging onto his anger, and even the slightest feelings of guilt, seemed futile as Severus’ mouth, the gaze of his teeth, the laving of his _tongue_ against his throat all united to play havoc with his senses, pulling a low moan from his throat and causing him to arch his neck. 

“Severus,” He hissed out as light kisses were pressed to his jaw, hands settling upon his waist and tugging him forward into Severus’ chest. Harry moved his other hand up to the man’s shoulder, holding on as a ghost of a kiss was teased across his lips, tugging an angry whimper from him. 

Looking up through half-lidded eyes, Harry met Severus’ darkened gaze, watching as the man watched him- lips hovering _just so_ above his own. 

“Severus…” Harry breathed, a frown creasing his brow.

“Harry…” Severus began, a smirk to his voice that riled Harry.

The tickle of hot breath across his already tingling mouth made Harry’s stomach clench in sudden expectation, an ache of want curling within him as he hesitantly leaned forward then back, looking up into Severus’ eyes then down to his lips; undecided. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Harry asked softly, his voice almost pleading, as if looking for an excuse to forgive Severus so easily.

“I couldn’t-,” Severus paused, “I didn’t think you were ready to know,” He replied quietly after a time, lifting his hand to touch with hesitating gentleness at Harry’s cheek, waiting for the boy’s reaction to his words. 

Harry’s gaze searched him a moment before shuttering as he pulled his face from Severus’ touch and pushed once again at his shoulder, this time the Potions Master allowed the action, stepping back at Harry’s urging. 

“It’s not for you to decide, Snape,” The young Gryffindor said with a deadly calm, a hard look coming across his features and twisting his face into a mask of resentment and betrayal. 

“You don’t own me, Snape. You don’t decide what I should and should not know. I came here for the ‘equality’ remember, I’ve seen less of that in this Inner Circle of yours that I have with Dumbledore’s Order! At least I know where I stand with them.” 

With that said he made to shove past his professor, what sounded like a growl of frustration emitting from his throat as Severus’ hand snapped out and grabbed his wrist, his fingers tightening as Harry tried to twist from his grip.

“Let go!” Harry shouted at him, wincing as Severus tugged him by the wrist back towards him.

“With them you are little more than a weapon, Potter. I hope you remember that.” 

Harry just shook his head disgustedly. “And what am I with you? What am I to the Inner Circle? The Order’s weapon against them?” 

Severus blinked at the words, feeling as if he’d just been drenched in icy-cold water at Harry’s words and the conviction he spoke them with.

“Do you really think that?” He asked, his voice suddenly devoid of any anger he’d been feeling in retaliation to Harry’s outbursts. 

“I don’t know, Snape, should I? I can’t trust the Order. They are trying to control me, trying to _mould_ me into this perfect little saviour of theirs. They _don’t think I’m ready to know_ either!” Harry wrenched his arm free from Severus’ slackened hold. 

“I need to know you’re not going to do the same with me, Professor. I _can’t_ be lied to just because you don’t think I should know something. I need to know I can trust you, that I can trust this side I’m about to pledge my allegiance to! Can’t you understand that?”

Harry didn’t wait for an answer as he turned away from Snape, spinning on his heel and storming from the room. The door thudding closed behind him, though not nearly with the same amount of force as it had the first time he’d slammed it. He made it to the classroom door before he felt the strength draining from him, forcing Harry to lean himself against the stone wall beside the door, turning his head to press his heated cheek to the cool stone and breathing deeply. 

A choked sort of sob came to his lips, the cry muffled by the hand he lifted to cover his mouth before it could sound as the adrenaline fuelling him since Draco’s revelation left him to slump to the floor as he once again contemplated his end, and this time- it was without the spark of hope that he’d been clinging to since first he was told the sinister meaning to the prophecy.

\- - -

Severus stood in silence for a while, his eyes still focussed upon the spot in which Harry had just been standing, had all but accused them, the Inner Circle- accused him- of being like the in likeness to Albus Dumbledore, to the Order of the Phoenix! It was ridiculous, it was preposterous, it was… surprisingly sobering to him in a way Harry’s initial anger hadn’t. 

Raking shaking fingers through his hair, Severus tugged the greasy strands a minute before heaving a sigh- the sound slightly irritable as he contemplated the reality of Harry’s words. Surely the boy didn’t honestly believe they would use him as the Order would? 

He eased himself back round his desk, lowering himself in his chair and throwing his head into his hands, shoulders slumping as he pressed the tips of his fingers to his eyes, all but digging them into the soft sockets until the burst of dancing lights became a frenzied kaleidoscope of black and white blurring patterns. 

They hadn’t really given Harry any reason to trust them as they trusted each other- or tried to at the very least. They had simply offered him what they had thought of as being the most important thing- that of themselves, but without the level of trust and loyalty that they had know for decades, which Draco had known since his birth. 

In an ultimatum of the Order or the Inner Circle, was it any wonder that Harry had chosen to befriend his enemies, those who offered him their own twisted version of a family in place of the codling and conniving members of the Order? 

Severus pulled his fingers from his eyes, placing his hands flat upon his desk, blinking unseeingly down upon them and the few strands of hair he’d unwittingly pulled from his head. Slowly he raised one hand to his rub at his temple where a light, aching throb had begun on the right side of his head, increasing in annoyance as the seconds of time ticked by.

His head felt full to the bursting with the harsh words (and ignorant realities) that Harry had left him with. Almost on automatic, Severus allowed his left hand to crawl in the direction of his desk draw, opening and slipping within the dark space to curl around the slim, glass vial- a vial which almost thrummed with the toxicity of the fumes that wished to be released. 

Severus clenched his eyes shut, his hand tightening in his grip about the vial a moment, feeling both thankful and guilty for the dramas this new school year brought to them. He hadn’t been able to look Draco in the eye when the young man arrived, afraid as he was that Draco would see and understand the redness to his eyes and nose. He was glad too that Harry didn’t have the same sort of knowledge as Draco- or perhaps just clouded as he’d been with anger had not noticed- and had not recognised his blood-shot eyes and tenderly-red nose for what they were. 

Severus was thankful for the bridge between himself and Remus- the one that neither had managed to cross, not even after their lovemaking the night before- because it meant that the werewolf would not take it upon himself to visit as easily as was his usual want. 

He tried not to think of Remus, Harry or Draco as he removed the vial from his drawer and uncorked the stopper.

\- - -

**To Be Continued…?**   
_A/N: Big thanks to everyone who was kind enough to review the last chapter, you know how much we love and appreciate hearing from you guys!_  
We also love hearing from all you lurkers out there ;) Part II of BR has been getting alot more reads per chapter that Part I did so to all you new readers, drop us a comment please! Let us know what you think of the chapters we're posting and we'll love you for ever!   
And for anyone interested, Beyond Redemption can also be found on [our website](http://www.beyond-redemption.net/index.php), which is all revamped and pretty looking thanks to Atraxis. We're in the process of loading fic at the moment, but feel free to browse what's up (and review! :D)  
Peace,  
CS WhiteWolf 

_\- - -_

__


	6. Chapter VI

  
Author's notes: "Oh I see your scars, I know where they're from, so sensually carved and bleeding until you're dead and gone." With the threat of the prophecy hanging over them all, Harry finds that acceptance and trust aren’t the only things hindering his conversion...  
Sequel to Beyond Redemptioin: Part I  


* * *

** Beyond Redemption: Part II **   
_By Sisters of Darkness_

\- - -

For this Chapter:

**Rating(s)** : R/18-Rated.  
 **Pairing(s)** : Draco Malfoy/Remus Lupin.  
 **Warning(s)** : Adult Language; Drug Use; Mentions of Eating Disorders and Self-Harm.

\- - -

**Chapter VI**   
_By Aurora Enkeli Medeis_

**D** raco had hesitated for a few moments at the end of the corridor on which sat Lupin’s room. He fingered the bag of cocaine in the pocket of his robes as if it were some kind of powdered security blanket. With a laboured sigh, Draco leant against the wall, working his pinky into a small hole in the bag. He gazed down at the mound of powder he had managed to balance on his finger and told himself that it was for courage. Potter could storm into a Professor’s rooms without thought but Gryffindor’s had that kind of courage built in- Slytherin’s clearly needed some sort of chemical enhancement.

Snorting the drugs, Draco hastily brushed away any trace and walked, with confidence, towards Lupin’s door. Voluntarily entering the den of a werewolf having pissed off said werewolf’s cub was not really what Draco had wanted to do that evening but if anyone could go and calm down Potter, it was probably Lupin. Hand shaking more than the blond cared to acknowledge, Draco knocked on the door.

A few moments passed, during which Draco contemplated making a run for it but, just as he was edging away, the door opened.

“Mr Malfoy?” Lupin said, the surprise in his voice far from subtle. Draco swallowed heavily.

“Professor Lupin,” Draco replied curtly, sounding as awkward as Lupin had sounded surprised. They stood in silence, Lupin looking mildly confused and Draco staring down at his feet. Lupin was about to say something when Draco beat him to it.

“It’s Potter.”

Draco looked up just in time to see the colour fade from Lupin’s face. “He found out,” Draco continued quickly, “about the lead, I mean.”

If anything, Draco could have sworn he saw a small amount of relief flit across Lupin’s face, which struck him as odd until he realised that Lupin had probably been trying to think of the best way to break the news to Potter himself.

“You did know about the lead?” Draco asked suddenly, looking up at Lupin. Draco’s eyes went wide, “didn’t you?” he asked again frantically.

Lupin nodded reassuringly.

“Severus told me last night,” Lupin replied, “But I had suspected that something was amiss.” He looked thoughtfully at Draco for a moment, “can you spare some time, Draco?” he asked, gesturing for Draco to come on.

“But what about Potter?” Draco asked, frowning, “he’s stormed down to the dungeons to confront Severus.”

“Severus can take care of himself, I’m sure,” Lupin replied.

“Yes but can Potter? You know what he’s like,” Draco let the comment hang, noticing the slight glint in Lupin’s eye at Draco’s comment.

“There is no need to be concerned for Harry,” Lupin said, stepping to the side, “will you come in?”

Draco was convinced that Lupin was mildly amused by the blonde’s poorly concealed concern for Potter and Draco silently cursed him. Biting the inside of his cheek, Draco nodded slowly and walked into Lupin’s rooms. They looked the same as they had the previous time he had been in there but everything was different now- Potter was joining the IC, Potter was storming around in a rage, Potter was on the receiving end of random kisses from Draco… maybe things _weren’t_ that different after all, especially since it all still seemed to revolve around Potter.

“Have a seat Draco,” Lupin said, gesturing towards the couch. He disappeared into the small kitchen for a few moments, finally coming back into the room carrying a tray holding a teapot and two cups. Draco almost snorted- apparently tea was the Lupin solution to everything.

“If Severus told you about the lead last night,” Draco said suddenly as Lupin poured two cups of tea, “why hadn’t you told Potter? You had all day to do it.”

The werewolf’s eyes narrowed as he looked up at Draco, passing him his cup of tea. Momentarily, Draco wondered just how obvious it was that he was packed full of drugs. Lupin finally looked away, stepping around the coffee table and sitting down at the opposite end of the couch to Draco.

“Draco,” he said wearily, rubbing at his eyes, “how much do you care about Harry?”

Draco almost dropped his cup but managed to stop himself, only a small amount of liquid sloshing out onto the saucer. How on earth was he meant to answer that one?

“I don’t see what that has to do with any thing,” he replied, trying to keep his voice smooth but ended up sounding more like a petulant child than anything else. Draco heard Lupin snort as he looked up, running a hand through his greying hair.

“I’ll assume that you learned that evasiveness from Severus,” Lupin said, sounding mildly amused. “You obviously cared enough to tell him the truth.”

“Severus cares a lot more than I do but _he_ lied to Potter,” Draco said truthfully, shrugging as he took a sip of tea, “therefore caring obviously has nothing to do with it.”

Draco felt pleased that he had been able to suppress the shake in his voice and deliver the statement with the utmost pseudo-honesty. Lupin, unsurprisingly, had another glint in his amber eyes that clearly suggested he knew that Draco was talking utter bollocks.

“Is that so?” Lupin asked, taking a long mouthful of tea. Draco nodded. “Well the point I was going to make was that however hard it was for you to tell Harry the truth…” Lupin trailed off, a sad look in his eyes.

“It would have been much harder for you,” Draco finished for him, meeting Lupin’s eyes as the man looked up in surprise.

Draco was almost insulted that Lupin so clearly thought him incapable of any level of understanding. Not that he had ever given much evidence to the contrary mind you. He screwed up his face as the inside of his nose began to itch. Rubbing at it fiercely, Draco caught Lupin staring at him and promptly stopped as he felt something warm trickling from his nostril, eyes going wide when he touched his fingers to the liquid and pulled them away to find them stained red.

Lupin was quick to act, a reassuring hand on Draco’s shoulder as he transfigured his cup into a tissue.

“Here,” Lupin said softly, sliding his hand up to Draco’s chin, holding it gently as he put the tissue to the blonde’s nose.

Normally Draco would have scoffed at someone coddling him in such a manner but he was presently in too much of a worry about how much damage he might have inflicted upon his nose.

After a few minutes Lupin pulled the tissue away, tilting Draco’s face upwards a little to check the flow of the bleeding. 

Draco could feel his entire body shaking and Lupin caught this, cupping Draco’s face, forcing the blond to look at him.

“It was just a nosebleed, Draco,” Lupin said reassuringly but Draco knew that the way his eyes darted away from Lupin’s gaze gave away the fact that something was wrong. Lupin pulled away from Draco, transfiguring the blood spattered tissue into a warm, damp cloth. He rubbed gently at the blood beneath Draco’s nose before the blond regained his senses and snatched the cloth away.

“Draco,” Lupin began, seemingly unfazed by Draco’s behaviour, “how often do you get nosebleeds?”

It was a fairly standard question to ask someone who had just had a nosebleed but Draco couldn’t help thinking that the older man had a line of intent with his questioning.

“Not often,” Draco replied, telling the truth. Lupin cocked his head slightly and Draco, not for the first time, wondered if the man was a legillimens. To be on the safe side, Draco focussed on keeping his mind closed off. Coincidentally, Lupin stopped giving him a searching look.

“When was the last time you had one?” Lupin asked, pouring himself another cup of tea nonchalantly. 

Draco’s stomach gave an unpleasant lurch. Lupin _had_ to know about his past overdose; after the state Severus had ended up in because of it there was no way that the werewolf couldn’t know. Before Draco could respond, Lupin was talking again.

“I know about the drugs, Draco. As far as I could guess, Severus has been keeping your habits in check,” Lupin slid a little closer to Draco, taking the now drying towel from the blond, “it would seem that I thought wrong.”

Draco sighed, running a hand through his hair. There was something, perhaps the drugs or maybe something else, pushing him to open up to Lupin. Here was a man who had gone through so much, lost almost everyone he cared about yet remained a caring gentle person while Draco was a bitter, pessimistic, self-harming drug addict at sixteen having never suffered any real trauma. It boggled the mind, really.

Although Draco had people who cared about him, they showed it in a completely different way to Lupin and it was a welcome change.

“He was,” Draco said finally after the long silence, “keeping a check on it, that is.”

“Not very well it would seem,” Lupin replied almost looking as if he were annoyed.

“He _was_ doing a good job,” Draco responded sharply, leaping to Severus’ defence even though he knew, deep down, that he was lying, “Well… until Christmas.”

“What happened at Christmas?” Lupin asked, gently probing Draco for more information.

“You _know_ what happened at Christmas,” Draco said incredulously. He snorted sardonically, “not that anyone would consider that the whole situation had an effect on me as well as Potter.”

Lupin’s expression darkened slightly at Draco’s comment about Potter but he seemed to let it slide. Draco feigned looking up at the clock and stood quickly from the couch.

“I need to go,” he said, “it’s getting late.” Lupin grabbed Draco’s wrist, gently urging him to turn around.

“You’re a prefect, Draco, time isn’t an issue for you,” Lupin said, shifting forward on the couch a little, “I have only a few more questions for you.”

Draco’s eyes flicked from the door, to Lupin, then back again. He desperately wanted to avoid being questioned and he knew Lupin would let him leave if he really wanted to but there was something neutral about Lupin- he wasn’t a member of the Inner Circle and therefore didn’t expect anything of or from Draco. It was oddly comforting.

Sighing, Draco sat back down on the couch, Lupin’s hand still wrapped around his wrist. The werewolf apparently didn’t notice.

Lupin’s hand was rough, different from both his father’s and Severus’ hands. Draco supposed that they were weathered from years of transforming into a monster once a month.

“Can I at least use the bathroom?” Draco said in resignation. Lupin gave him a small, half-smile and nodded.

“It’s down there,” he replied, indicating to a narrow hallway, “first door on the left.”

Draco stood up with a nod, Lupin’s hand slipping from his wrist as if the werewolf had no control over it.

Making his way quickly to the bathroom, Draco closed the door behind himself, leaning against the back of the door as the room reacted to his presence and turned on the light.

He touched reverently at his nose, wondering if he should risk the extra dose that he so desperately wanted.

\- - -

A few minutes passed before Draco finally emerged, wiping at his nose and ignoring the awful spinning in his head. He brushed his hands down his robes, unable to help giving his nose a conspicuous scratch as he walked back over to the couch.

“I poured you another cup,” Lupin said, gesturing towards the steaming cup of tea, “It had gone cold,” he added as if to justify his actions.

Draco nodded mutely, an unpleasant notion in his mind that, were he to talk, it were likely that he would throw-up what little food he had eaten that day. 

Lupin watched Draco pick up his tea with shaking hands, wincing slightly as if something was causing him a great deal of pain.

“If Severus was controlling your habits,” Lupin began, clearly deciding that Draco had had a long enough reprise from questioning, “why did it spiral out of control at Christmas?”

Draco took a mouthful of burning hot tea, feeling a small sense of release as it painfully scalded his mouth and throat.

“He gave me enough to scrape me through the holidays,” Draco replied, frowning at the muffled buzzing in his ears, “but after everything that happened with the Dark Lord, all of the arguments and then kissing Potter …I guess it all go on top of me.”

Lupin’s eyebrows rose at Draco’s comment about Potter but the blonde’s mind was going too fast for him to even realise all the things he was blurting out. As quick as Lupin’s shock appeared, it dissipated. Draco fought back a pained expression as the sensation of slicing pulled across his abdomen. He needed out of there. Badly.

“Where did you get the extra drugs?” Lupin probed, still not finished his inquisition. Draco huffed, partly at Lupin and partly at the shakes beginning to rack his entire body.

“I don’t see why that matters,” he snapped, slamming down his cup, momentarily forgetting that he was in the presence of a professor. Lupin’s eyes narrowed at being talked to in such a way but before he could reprimand Draco, the blond was standing from the couch.

Draco’s stomach gave a searing lurch, his head suddenly feeling too heavy for his body. Swaying dangerously, Draco didn’t have much of an option but to let Lupin guide him back down into a seated position. The blond dropped his face into his hands, elbows resting on his thighs. He felt Lupin shift closer.

“Draco,” he said softly. Draco couldn’t be sure but he thought Lupin might be leaning in, “how much have you taken tonight?”

Draco didn’t answer, opting instead to push the heels of his hands into his eyes. He could tell Lupin, he supposed, but no doubt the werewolf would then go to Severus. Or would he? Draco didn’t know any more, thoughts and answers, questions and contradictions flying through his mind in an incomprehensible flurry.

“How much, Draco?” Lupin asked again. Draco stiffened as a hand rested itself lightly on the small of his back.

This wasn’t Severus asking him a question, the answer to which would only cause a look of unsurprised disappointment. And it wasn’t his father with the hand on his back and the hot breath suddenly on his ear, just waiting for the chance to reprimand him. It was Lupin- professor, werewolf, Severus’ lover, _Remus_. Draco wasn’t going to be met with disappointed glances or angry words. Lupin might ( _hopefully_ ) provide a comforting word, arm, touch…

Draco swallowed heavily, opening his mouth to reply once Lupin had repeated his question for a third time.

“A lot,” he said quietly, running his fingers through his hair as the hand on his back stilled its soothing strokes.

“Too much?” Lupin asked, hand sliding up Draco’s spin towards the blonde’s neck. The blond stiffened but shook his head vehemently.

“No,” he managed to choke out. He heard and felt Lupin breath in heavily, as if inhaling the boy’s scent. Draco closed his eyes and drew a breath, unsure if this wolf-like attention was uncomfortable or arousing. Lupin’s nose nudged at his ear, urging Draco to tilt his head. Swallowing hard, Draco did so, shuddering as Lupin’s hand slipped up to the back of his neck.

Draco’s mind, already struggling to function coherently, swam with more thoughts that it would ever be able to process and seemingly gave up, short-circuiting itself. Draco went limp, finally giving up fighting with himself and leaning into Lupin. The werewolf let out what could have been a strangled moan, gently pulling Draco’s hair back, exposing his neck and ear.

There was something in Lupin’s behaviour that Draco only felt able to describe as uninhibited restraint. Maybe Lupin, like Draco, didn’t know just what was going on any more. Biting his bottom lip, Draco tilted his head further to the side, offering his neck to Lupin.

Lupin’s lips were soft on his neck, as if hesitant to properly kiss Draco. Fleeting touches glided over the blonde’s neck as Draco’s head spun beyond all comprehension, eyes closing as he swayed in his seated position. He was suddenly unsure if he was losing control or simply losing consciousness. 

There was one kiss, two, maybe three before Lupin pulled away. He said something that Draco couldn’t hear over the buzzing in his ears and he didn’t feel like he had the energy to open his eyes to try and make out what Lupin’s lips were mouthing. 

Draco couldn’t be sure but he was, perhaps, being lain down on the couch, rough hands brushing his hair tenderly from his face. There was what could have been several loud knocks on the door before the hands disappeared; Draco’s breathing deepening as his body finally gave up on consciousness.

\- - -

**To Be Continued…?**   
_A/N: I have about a million and one excuses as to why it has taken around ninety years to get this chapter done. Let’s just say- real life is gayer than Remus in a cardigan. Anywho! I know it might feel like we’ve all been in this little scenario before but this time, as well as being much more involved, it is a very important side point to a later plot point. Just in case you were wondering if there was a reason for the delightful Draco/Remus sexual tension._  
Now, as you have seen me say on many an occasion, BR vastly lacks in the smut department. Let’s blame Caspe since she is the one who taught me that sometimes plot is important. But well …things may very well be heating up.  
I’ll stop teasing now because it’s mean because Ciaran Draco (among others) will probably hit me with something.  
Until my, rather exciting, next chapter,  
Aurora. 

\- - -


End file.
